


It's Gotta Be Better Than Waiting

by geckoholic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, F/M, POV Female Character, Quiet Sex, Returning Home, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:58:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: “Welcome home,” he mumbles into her skin. Evidence for his joy at her return presses against her thigh and she reaches back, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him close.





	It's Gotta Be Better Than Waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/gifts).



> A pornlet, because more substantial ideas were uncooperative. 
> 
> Beta-read by lustyjustice. Thank you!! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title is from "Living In Your Letters" by Dashboard Confessional.

Maria closes the front door quietly behind herself; the entryway is illuminated by the faint glow of the TV in the living room. There is no sound, however; it must be on mute. The only noise in the whole apartment is the gentle prattling of the shower in the en suite bathroom, muted but audible. Maria smiles to herself and toes off her shoes, leaving them by the door, and sheds her clothes as she walks through the bedroom and into the en suite. She keeps them folded on her arm and deposits them on a chair by the bed before she silently slips into bathroom. He most likely noticed her presence already, but she still says his name, waiting for him to draw the curtain back and stare at her, shampoo suds in his hair and all. 

“I didn't expect you to be back before tomorrow morning,” Steve says, his eyes roaming her naked body in that way he has – hungry, interested, but not predatory. The soft way he looks at her when his gaze travels back up, meeting hers, makes it clear that this is not a demand but an offering, an invitation. 

One Maria fully intends on taking. 

“Got an earlier flight,” she says. She doesn't elaborate; that's a conversation for tomorrow, once the ache of twelve hours on a business class flight has faded from her bones. 

She reaches up to brush some of the suds off his temple and then rises to her tiptoes to kiss him. The tub he stands in leaves her stretching even further to reach him, the difference between them even more pronounced. Water hits her face as soon as she leans in enough to seal her mouth to his, and that combined with the steam that's collected behind the curtain makes it a little hard to breathe. She has to come up for air sooner than she would like. It takes some maneuvering for her to get into the tub without flooding the bathroom floor, and she shivers uncomfortably when the wet shower curtain clings her body. But that effect is quickly alleviated by the blissfully hot water, and Maria closes her eyes as it rains down on her. Steve's arms close around her from behind, encircling her waist, his face pressed to the back of her neck. 

“Welcome home,” he mumbles into her skin. Evidence for his joy at her return presses against her thigh and she reaches back, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him close. 

But that's all the encouragement she's willing to give him for now. Her legs have trouble supporting her weight as it is. She's exhausted. While she usually doesn't mind the acrobatics required to make sex standing up in a bath tub work, this isn't the time. He seems to understand. His hands don't stray, and all he does is hold her, not hiding his erection but making it her choice as to whether they'll continue. 

She turns around in his arms, holds his face in both hands and kisses him again. When they part, she tells him, “Let me wash up, okay? I'll join you in a few minutes.” 

Cold air rushes past her when he draws the curtain back a little so he can exit the tub, and she steps more fully under the spray. Quickly, she soaps up, washes her body and hair, and then allows herself another minute under the hot water before she turns it off. 

Wrapped in a towel, her damp hair falling freely down her back, she steps into the bedroom. She cocks her head when she sees Steve, sitting on edge of the mattress rather than already hidden underneath the sheets. 

He's still naked, and still hard, and he pats the space next to himself when their eyes meet. “Come here.” 

Maria raises an eyebrow but she indulges him, sitting down so close their bodies touch from shoulder to hip, and looks at him expectantly. To her surprise, he immediately rises to his feet, but that confusion doesn't last too long. He kneels on the carpet in front of her, one hand gently placed on her knee, his gaze asking permission to part her legs. 

And she may be exhausted, but not so deeply tired that she'd reject that offer. Slowly, an intentional tease, she opens her legs to him, drinking in the way he licks his lips, impatient and eager. He crawls forward once there's enough room for him between her spread thighs, and then hikes her legs up so that her feet perch on the edge of the mattress, making her legs fall wide. 

The first touch of his tongue along her inner thigh causes her to emit a long, thready groan. Suddenly she's impatient, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder, pressing down. And because he knows what's good for him, knows every second he makes her wait now will be visited upon him tenfold some other night, he parts her labia, not-so-accidentally brushing over her clit, and goes to town. Cunnilingus is an art she never thought he'd have had the opportunity to pick up during the war. One day she'll ask where he learned it, but the idea only ever crosses her mind during moments like this; any other time it seems unimportant, trivial. Maria isn't the jealous type anyway. Her motive for wanting to know is mere curiosity, and she's not in the habit of letting that win over more pressing matters. 

And right now she’s preoccupied with the way he licks into her, skilled, efficient, every slide of his tongue against her making her breath stutter, rending coherent thought a secondary concern. Her body takes over her mind and both are singing with pleasure, her legs quivering, her arms giving in. She lays back on the bed, both hands balled into fists in the sheets. The shift in position forces him to readjust, and even the small loss of contact makes her circle her hips in protest, and he returns to his task with renewed vigor. 

She comes with a bitten off moan, lower lip sucked between her teeth. He keeps going until she's twitching underneath him, oversensitive, and she leans halfway forward so she can bat at his head. When he sits back on his haunches, he's grinning, mouth slick and swollen, and if her body didn't feel like lead she'd drag him up to meet her so she can kiss her taste off his tongue. As it is, she contents herself with nodding towards the space beside her on the bed, mirroring his earlier gesture. 

Steve lays down heavily and, once he's comfortable, takes hold of her wrist, guiding it between his legs. She's about to protest – yes, it'd be polite, but really, she's _tired_ and this whole thing was his idea anyway – but he smiles, shakes his head, and she allows it. His point becomes obvious as she finds him soft, come already smeared over his lower stomach. She looks down for confirmation, then back up to meet his eyes. She hadn't noticed him jacking his cock, is rather sure he didn't, and it's hot, the idea that he enjoyed himself so much that eating her out got him off too. Something in her stirs with rekindled desire. He'd be up for it, no doubt, endless super soldier stamina and all, but she's human, and she's been awake for nearly twenty-four hours at this point, and... not now. All she can do is file the knowledge away and test that theory some other time, repeat the exercise and see if the result can be replicated. 

Steve cocks his head, a knowing look on his face, and maybe it's a good thing she also doesn't have enough spoons left to worry about hpw easily he can read her sometimes. 

He presses a kiss to her cheek, quick and chaste, and tugs at the towel she's still got wrapped around her torso. When she releases it, he uses it to wipe them clean and then discards it onto the floor. He stands, and in the time it takes him to round the bed she's draped the comforter over herself, yawning wide as she holds one corner up so he may join her.


End file.
